Contretemps
by TheClumsyHero
Summary: con·tre·temps noun: an unexpected and unfortunate occurrence.
Hello everyone! So, this is my first Undertale fanfic that was actually inspired off of a discussion my friend and I had. This will be a multi-chapter series, and I'm doing my best to update as frequently as I possibly can. I hope you enjoy!

_ 

A flash of lightening filled the darkened sky, lingering for a few brief moments before disappearing. It was only moments after that it was followed by it close companion, thunder. The sound was nearly deafening, and it was safe to say that the strike had to have been rather close. Unlike the flash, the thunder refused to simply go away. It lingered like an unwelcomed guest, no doubt rattling the poor individuals tucked in their beds. There was a storm brewing; that much was obvious by the very appearance of the sky. But this oncoming downpour wasn't the reason Toriel found herself at her window, diligently watching the outdoors. No, she could care less about the storm, the lightning and thunder hardly even fazed her. What she was most concerned about was the fact her child was missing.

Toriel didn't know exactly how long she had been waiting her at this window; hoping, no, praying that any minute now she would see Frisk scurrying down the street in an attempt to make it home before the rain began to beat down on their small form. Toriel knew that there was a chance they wouldn't be home when she, herself, arrived home from work. They had been invited over a friend's house, an actual human friend. Toriel didn't have the heart to tell them no, nor would she. She was beyond thrilled for her child for finally getting along with others. As excited as she was, however, they still had a curfew. It was a school night and that was simply a matter she wouldn't budge on. 

Frisk was a relatively well behaved child. When they weren't home when they were supposed to be, it was safe to say that Toriel was the slightest bit annoyed. They didn't pull stunts like this. She tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, perhaps they simply lost track of time. That would be an innocent mistake that she wouldn't mind forgiving. But soon, those few minutes turned into an hour, and then hours. Toriel was more or less in a state of panic, and respectfully so. Frisk's phone must have been blaring; she couldn't count how many times she had called the child and had no idea why they wouldn't answer. What once was annoyance had turned into worry and a sickening sense of dread. She would have liked to think they lost track of time, that perhaps they were still sitting at their friends house, playing or that they had actually decided to take them home themselves. Or, maybe they even went out to dinner. Frisk's phone must have died, they would never not answer, or usually would call back almost immediately. But she knew that was a lie. If it truly had died it wouldn't have been ringing, it would have sent her straight into voicemail. And what sort of parent wouldn't call to tell her that they were sorry that their child was still over, or to ask if it was ok as to whether or not they stayed over for a while longer.

The entire situation was unnerving to Toriel, and she had done enough waiting around. She found herself pushing away from the window, and haphazardly yanking on her jacket. She couldn't wait for them to return. She had no other options but to go out and look for the child herself. She just hoped that when she found them (not if, there was no ifs right now she would find them and that was final) that they would be unscathed. And with that thought in mind, her door was thrown open, a harsh wind chilling her to the core and causing her to tug her jacket ever so slightly to guard her face, and after that she left into the outdoors in search of her child.

_

"Who could that be at this time of night?" The short skeleton found himself approaching the door, and it was safe to say they weren't particularly thrilled that they had been pulled out of bed at such an ungodly hour. He was followed closely behind by his taller counterpart who just so happened to be much more awake than his own self.  
"Perhaps it is Undyne!" Papyrus was all too eager to suggest, which in turn he received a side glance from his brother.  
"What makes you say that?"  
"Well, I always show up at her house in the early hours of the morning! She may have decided to begin doing so as well!"  
Sans couldn't help but smirk at that—not that he wasn't always smirking to begin with. If anything, he was certainly amused by his brother's optimism.  
"That's a good theory, bro," he had begun, their procession to the door momentarily ceasing, "but I don't think Undyne is here." It was obvious Papyrus had taken some offense to that statement, considering it had defied his own.  
"Well why not?!" He was far too loud at a time like this, but Sans was growing indifferent to being awake now.  
"She hates it when you wake her up, why would she decide to get up herself to come bother you?"

Papyrus looked thoroughly stumped with that suggestion, and it was apparent by the look upon his face he was trying to come up with some sort of point to rebuke his brother's argument. Finally, in a timid tone, the only argument that came to mind was:  
"Surprise training session?"  
There was an obvious silence in the room after that, Sans looking smug as ever as he gazed back up at the taller skeleton. Sans didn't even have to open his mouth again for Papyrus to know he lost, but his final words finally passed.  
"You haven't trained in months, bro. And the only training Undyne does now is for the Police Academy."  
Papyrus couldn't help but sigh at the loss of this argument, it was rare he ever found himself winning one against Sans to be honest.  
"Yes, I suppose you are correct, brother. Yet again you have bested me in a heated verbal dispute!"  
Sans could only chuckle at his admittance of defeat, a shrug taking hold of his shoulders.  
"Whatever, bro. I mean, it could have very well been—" But Sans trailed off when the pounding upon their front door resounded throughout the home once more.  
"Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten that was the reason I came down here to begin with." After that comment, their walk to the door was continued, and after turning a few locks, it was pulled open.

Before either brother had had the chance to say a single word, they found themselves cut off, and even pushed aside as the figure before them entered their home, rain dripping off their form from the intense downpour outside. It was rather apparent they had been crying, and it wasn't long before their hood was pulled off their face, and they began to speak.  
"I can't find Frisk." Toriel had practically sobbed. For a woman who was so often calm and composed, who always had everything sorted, who was never quick to show fear or sadness, seeing her in this condition sent a chill down the brothers' spines.  
Papyrus and Sans had stood somewhat dumbfounded, as if her words hadn't reached them, or as if they sort of bounced off, never being absorbed. Sans had went to question her, ask her to repeat what she had just stated very clearly but yet again Toriel managed to steal his words.  
"They—they were at a friend's house after school they—six o'clock they were supposed to be home by six and they called me when they got there, I know they were there I heard them and their friend but—Oh God they never came home. I've looked everywhere, I can't find them I keep calling and they won't answer their phone I just—I…Sans, I don't know what to do."

Yet again a silence had fallen over the three individuals. The news was shocking, it seemed almost paralyzing. Frisk wasn't a child to just run off, they weren't going to pick up and leave. So the question in Sans' mind was primarily 'what happened to them?'. Someone did something, someone had to have done something. He felt his own sanity slipping at the thought, but he wouldn't dare make a scene here, not now, not in front of these two, not with Toriel in the state she was in.

"Do not worry, Toriel." Papyrus muttered, and was the first to break this accursed silence that had befallen. His words didn't seem as strong as they usually were and it was almost as if he was trying to reassure himself as well as their former queen. "I have no doubt that Frisk is okay! They're strong like me! They'll show up or call any minute now, don't you worry!"  
Toriel stared at the younger brother, her chocolate hues still brimming with tears threatening to spill at any given moment. But she couldn't help but feel her heart lighten, if but even the slightest bit. Papyrus was always so very optimistic; he always tried to find the best in even the worst situation. She couldn't help but admire him for such.  
"Yea, Tori. Don't worry—we're going to find Frisk, okay?" Sans had decided to join in, despite the horrible feeling he had over the situation. The last thing they needed to do now was panic. Frisk had been through a lot. They could take care of themself. They were probably worrying over nothing.

The three practically jumped when the sound of music filled the room. Toriel was desperate, her hands clawing at her coat pocket, before yanking out her phone. The number was unfamiliar, but that hardly deterred her. The phone was quickly flipped open, and pressed to her ear.  
"Frisk?"  
And yet again they were silent, more specifically, the skeletons as they strained to try and listen to what it was had been said. However, after a few moments, they realized how little they needed to hear to piece together what kind of call this was. They watched as Toriel's hopeful optimism dropped into a look of horror, and the tears in her eyes were quickly returning. Her voice, once strong as she had answered the phone, was slowly diminishing until there was nothing but a whisper left in its place. And then the call ended. 

She had to take a long moment, trying to compose herself but nothing would have helped in this situation. Sans and Papyrus stood, awaiting the news, though they already knew it was nothing they would want to hear. Finally, Toriel found the strength to part her lips, and the words came out choked, holding back a sob.  
"Frisk was in an accident. They're at the hospital. A car hit them… they don't know if they're going to make it."  
They expected sobbing, expected her to throw herself down to let it all out, but instead she simply stood there. It was scary, how calm she was, how cool and collect at something like this. But she needed to be—needed to be strong. She didn't have time right now. Every moment they wasted was possibly a moment less of Frisk's life. She just had to keep it together for now. At the hospital, that it when she is allowed to feel again.

"Papyrus. Can you please grab your keys?"  
They weren't dressed. They were still holding on to that initial shock of the news. And yet Toriel was taking the reins, asking questions and trying to get things moving, while Papyrus himself stood dumbfounded.  
"Papyrus?"  
"Y-Yes! Of course! Let me go grab them!" And like that he was off. He took only a few brief minutes before he was back, a hoodie and a pair of jeans thrown onto his form (quite obvious by the way they hung in an odd manner). However, what struck Toriel as odd was the look upon his face.  
"Where did Sans go?" And though they couldn't afford it, there was a long pause. "He wasn't upstairs with me! He was down here. Let me call him!" And that loud voice rang throughout the small house.  
"Papyrus, we don't have time we need to leave immediately."  
"But Toriel—"

"Every minute we waste gives us less of a chance of seeing Frisk."  
Papyrus was pensive, obviously against leaving without his brother. Sans cared as deeply as he did for the human. Papyrus knew of his antics, knew that he always pulled tricks like these but up until now he never questioned it. His brother was always mysterious and elusive. But why on earth he would pick now to try something was beyond him. One thing he did understand, while regretfully, was that the Human's time may be short. Leaving and getting there quickly was essential. 

While Sans hadn't particularly moved to the back of their minds, he was no longer the main priority. Instead, the pair had pushed open the front door and soon after it was slam shut. The forefront problem on their mind was now hoping they got to Frisk before they took a turn for the worse. What that meant exactly, neither had the heart to utter.


End file.
